


Why the Doctor doesn't like buses

by TheTimelessChild0



Series: Ship vs Bottle [1]
Category: Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Desperation, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Peeing Into Things That Are Not a Toilet, Urination, by which I mean fart jokes, slight crack
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-01 22:55:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,659
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23574991
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheTimelessChild0/pseuds/TheTimelessChild0
Summary: Especially double-deckers.
Series: Ship vs Bottle [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1697404
Kudos: 1





	Why the Doctor doesn't like buses

The Doctor shifted in his seat. This was why he didn’t want to sit on the top deck. The cold breeze was tickling something that he very much preferred to remain dormant; his bladder. He’d felt the added weight when he stepped on the bus.

“Come on, let’s sit up top, it’s a lovely day,” Rose had suggested. 

It was indeed a lovely day. But that did not make the prospect of walking up a set of very narrow stairs with a full bladder, any more inviting. 

“There’s probably an AC in the back, come on,” the Doctor nudged, squeezing his thighs together. 

“What are you on about? Don’t you wanna see the sights properly?” Rose asked, smirking bemusedly.

The Doctor was stuck. He had to either admit to needing the loo, meaning they’d have to get on a different double-decker bus, and Rose finding out about it, or surrender and walk up the stairs. Naturally, he chose the latter. 

He put his hands on his knees, squeezing his legs together, but quickly folding his hands to appear as if he’s paying attention to the guide. 

*************

It hadn’t been the quite clearly fake look on the Doctor’s face that worried Rose. Rather, the way his shoulders were tense, like he was resisting the urge to lean forward. 

She frowned at him. “What?” he asked innocently. 

“You alright?” she asked, putting a hand on his shoulder, which shuddered at the sudden contact. 

“Of course, perfectly alright. Brilliant!” the Doctor lied, grinning like he usually did.

He sighed as he moved his hands away, crossing his arms on his chest. The hands themselves rubbed at his side anxiously. His legs were partially crossed, just above the ankle, feet slapped together intermittently.

Rose raised a sceptical eyebrow at his crossed legs, but looked away, thinking.

* * *

The Doctor continued to breathe nervously, hoping Rose didn’t hear. She did, but still didn’t know the reason behind it.

Soon, he began bobbing his legs up and down, wishing intently that he could massage his thighs without arising suspicion. Unbeknownst to him, suspicion had already been activated. 

“Doctor, you’re acting restless. What’s the matter?” Rose asked, seriously. 

The Doctor’s eyes flicked sideways, then he looked away, fighting off a blush. If he blushed, she’d know it was something that embarrassed him. And only human things did that. Like, the one time he farted in front of Jackie, and blamed it on the chair. Which was a wicker chair, and had a _pillow_ on it.

“I screwed up, okay?” he mumbled, closing his eyes in frustration at himself.

Rose smirked, kindly. 

“D’you need to..you know..let rip?” she asked, restraining the urge to laugh. He seemed to be in pain. 

_Well, there goes the plan of not blushing_..the Doctor thought, turning fiercely red.

“NO.” he replied, firmly, shushing her. 

Rose giggled at his embarrassment. 

“Alright. How did you _screw up_ then?” she asked, doubting that he really had.

The red tinge in the Doctor’s cheeks sustained. He took several large breaths, trying and failing to pronounce it.

“I’m sure it’s no big deal,” Rose attempted to assure him, wrapping an arm around him. 

“I didn’t...go..before we left the TARDIS,” the Doctor said quietly, crossing his legs properly. 

Rose took a second to piece apart his sentence. Oh. Dear. His posture made sense now.

“How bad is it?” she asked carefully. 

“Bad enough that I can’t wait for the entire tour, not bad enough that I’m willing to get up and leave the bus in front of everyone,” the Doctor answered. His pride was still important. And he really wasn’t sure if he could keep his composure if he stood.

Rose cringed. He had a point. There weren’t enough people, for their exit to be disguised. While she doubted anyone would make a big deal out of it, they would look at them, and the Doctor was sensitive to stares, as the alien he was. 

Then, she remembered. She quickly grabbed the empty bottle she’d forgotten to throw out, and handed it to the Doctor.

He didn’t understand, until Rose pointed it at his crotch.

The Doctor folded his hands and pressed them against his crotch, as his bladder was very onboard with this idea. 

“Are you out of your mind?! I’d be SEEN!!” he hissed. 

Rose pointed at the small group far ahead of them and the 2-3 people 5 rows behind them, all of which were wearing headsets, presumably translating from English into some other language. 

The Doctor wrapped his coat tighter around him, hiding the fact that both hands were now actively grasping his crotch. Additionally, he was now, as Rose had suspected, leaning forward, whimpering. 

“Doctor. You’re in pain. I swear I won’t look. Neither can they, they’re listening to the guide,” Rose attempted to reassure him.

The Doctor continued panting with the strain of holding it in, still red in the face at the circumstances he’d put on himself. 

The wheels on the bus went round and round around Trafalgar Square, stopping in front of the fountain. Specifically in a spot that put the rushing water right next to the Doctor’s ear, highly audible. 

Seeing that he couldn’t continue without making at least one stranger turn around at his behaviour, the Doctor grabbed the bottle. 

“Just..please don’t look,” he whispered, reminding Rose. She nodded, looking away as if he hadn’t even spoken. 

The Doctor put the bottle between his legs, and hastily unzipped himself. Looking around, he had the foresight to cover his crotch before pulling himself out. He didn’t even have time to reconsider, as his bladder gave up all restraint, and his brain gave up all concern for dignity, and he let go. 

He listened closely to the fountain, using it as assistance against freezing up or at all thinking about what he was doing and where he was doing it. While keeping one ear tuned to whether the guide had stopped talking. The fountain was only loud to him because he’d needed to pee so badly. 

The Doctor’s stream was heavy, and while Rose had turned her back, her ears worked perfectly, picking up plenty of relieved grumbles here and there. She didn’t giggle once, rather smiled widely, pleased that he hadn’t hurt himself further. 

Of course, she didn’t know that the Doctor really _couldn’t_ have hurt himself more than a few minutes before he’d have released a stream just as loud in his trousers..He’d managed to hold on for as long as Time Lord-ily possible.

The stream sputtered to a halt, pouring a deciliter or more into the very top of the bottle. If the Doctor wasn’t already blushing, he would have, at the sight of the filled-to-the-brim “toilet” he’d just used.

Since the Doctor was still covered up in the important areas, he screwed the lid back on the bottle, and put it back in Rose’s bag, then zipped himself back up. 

“You can turn around now,” he mumbled, applying hand sanitizer. 

Rose looked down at the bottle, which was almost the same colour as the TARDIS, but nevertheless its usual blue.

“There you go. Feel better?” she asked kindly. 

“Much better,” the Doctor replied, smiling tiredly. 

Rose stroked his back comfortingly. “I’ll be sure to remind you to go before we leave, next time,” she promised him. 

The blush that had faded, returned in full force. “That..that’s really not necessary,” the Doctor protested. 

“Oh, really? Then tell me why you made us miss the last three sights?” Rose argued with a laugh.

The Doctor looked down guiltily. “Sorry,” he apologized pitifully.

Rose embraced him. “Oh, Doctor there’s no need to apologize. I was just making a point. You’ve done nothing wrong. You had a lapse in judgement. That’s all. It could happen to anyone.” Rose assured him.

“When you’ve gotta go, you’ve gotta go,” she emphasised.

“And _go_ I did!” the Doctor laughed, pointing at the full bottle he’d been responsible for filling. “London and its fountains. Fantastic help,” he sighed in satisfaction.

Rose tickled the hair in the back of his head playfully. “Oi!” the Doctor whined, recombing the area indignantly.

“Mind you, I doubt the _wall_ of water in Cardiff would have the same effect,” he noted.

Rose smirked mischievously. “What if it’s _riight_ next to you..drip..drip..drip” she whispered in his ear. The Doctor jumped away from the teasing, shuddering. 

“Rose, stop it. I’ve already _gone_ the once already,” he complained. 

“Sorry,” Rose apologized and changed the subject. 

************* Meanwhile, 6 days earlier **************

Rose, Jackie, Mickey and the Doctor were having a calm weekend, sitting in the living room watching the telly. The Doctor felt a small pocket of gas in his intestine and decided to use the noise from the television as a distraction. At what he thought was a loud enough part of the show, he raised his buttocks slightly off the chair and let one rip.

And rip it did. It wasn’t as quiet as he had hoped. It sounded like a cross between a failed attempt at playing the trumpet, and the sound of a champagne bottle, when it pops open.

Mickey looked at the Doctor, holding back a laugh. The Doctor blushed. “It..it was the chair,” he lied quickly. Both Mickey and Rose raised their eyebrows and smirked. Rose looked down, to indicate why the excuse wasn’t convincing. 

The Doctor followed her gaze. He realised, that he was sitting on a pillow. And on a _wicker_ chair. He stared nervously at them, trying to find an explanation. 

Jackie hadn’t judged the Doctor in the slightest. She was looking at him in sympathy.

_Aww..bloody hell, those puppy dog eyes could melt Fort Knox_ , she cooed silently. 

Rose helpfully changed the subject, saving him from the embarrassment. 

She leaned back in the sofa, thinking. 

_I really should do something with that superiority complex of his,_ she reasoned. 

_Or else…_

**THE END.**


End file.
